Constants and Variables
by Original Prankster
Summary: Lutece and Lutece knew that the deck was stacked from the start, but if they store enough aces up their sleeves one of them will have to deal the winning hand eventually. Alternate title: How many Bookers does it take to change a universe?
1. Chapter 1

She bent down and peered at the bullet wound, pursing her lips. 'It appears the exercise has failed again.' She said curiously.

'Quite.' Her brother replied, picking up the box and wiping it of blood carefully. 'The assassin was quite thorough.' He remarked, lifting the cloth sack, staring at Booker Dewitt's lifeless face as he had over a hundred times before.

'This one never even made it into the rocket.' She said with a frown. 'I think this must be our fastest death yet.'

'He fell out of the boat twice.' Robert reminded her.

'Oh yes. I think we could have stopped him from drowning the second time if he'd not surfaced under the oars.' She looked pensively at the figure tied to the chair. 'Still more where that came from. We do, after all, have other places to have been.'

'I think we should give this universe one more try.' Rosalind glanced at him quizzically.

'Then shouldn't we dispose of the body, he might find it disconcerting to come face to face with his, well, face.' She asked.

'No, he's never going to have lifted the mask, and it might prove to be the motivation he had needed.' He paused, thinking through the syntax for a moment.

'Good point.' She agreed. 'How many Dewitt's now?'

'One hundred and twenty two.' He said.

'How many times did he never make it beyond this lighthouse?'

'Fourteen.' He frowned at her. 'I still think this is a venture worth pursuing.'

xxx

The first time Booker had stumbled through the doorway Rosalind had remarked on his hand, in every universe he had branded himself, that was a constant, the location of the brand, a variable. That's all this was to Rosalind, an experiment in the constants and variables of these lives, but to Robert, it was a way to seek repentance.

'Bring us… Bring us the girl… and wipe… wipe away the debt.' Those words were part of each experience now as they helped him into the boat.

'I'm starting to think you were much more harsh with him than you should have been.' She said to her brother.

'One has to have been harsh. You forget that I had as much to lose as he had.' That was the essence of his guilt, to have used this situation to meet Rosalind, to have been party to such corruption, he rowed a little more bitterly than the previous times. 'Are you going to just sit there?' He asked her peevishly.

'As compared to what? Standing?' She asked in a tone that was just shy of mockery, it was hard to mock someone who you knew was equally as intelligent as you.

'Not standing. Rowing.'

'Rowing?' She questioned, as she picked up the wooden box. 'I hadn't planned on it.' She turned and passed the box back to Dewitt.

'So you expect me to shoulder the burden?' He asked.

'No, but I do expect you to do all the rowing.' She remarked, Booker had asked something but it was lost to the wind.

'And why is that?' This conversation was a variable, they didn't feel too constrained by the probability space, but there were some things they adhered to.

'Coming here was your idea.' She said simply.

'My idea?' He asked, knowing full well that the lighthouse was a constant, a little puzzled at her comment.

'I've made it very clear I don't believe in the exercise.' She gave him a look from under her yellow hat that spoke volumes.

'The rowing?'

'No.' The tone of her voice changed slightly as her quick mind picked up a thought. 'I imagine that's wonderful exercise.' Behind her Booker was coming more to his senses.

'Then what?' Robert seemed dedicated to confusion in this conversation.

'The entire thought experiment.' Robert frowned at that, she was very vocal about her utter distaste for this when they could just let sleeping dogs lie and go about their lives as needed. Robert ultimately felt he must put right what once had gone wrong. It was important.

Booker said something that they ignored, once again going over this argument. 'One goes into an experiment knowing one could fail.' He reminded her, it didn't really do to talk of his death when he was sitting right there.

'One does not undertake an experiment knowing one HAS failed.' Robert nearly sighed at her, somewhere in the probability space there had to be a Booker that set this to rights, it was just a matter of finding him.

'Can we get back to the rowing?' He asked, feeling on safer ground there.

'I suggest you do, or we're never going to get there.' She replied flippantly, effectively trying to end the conversation.

'No. I mean I would greatly appreciate it if you would assist.' He said patiently, with a touch of irritation.

'Perhaps you should ask HIM.' She very rarely referred to him by name, Robert wondered if it was a way of distancing herself from what she had done. He was always 'him' or 'that one' to her. 'I imagine he has a greater interest in getting there that I do.'

'I suppose he does, but there's no point in asking.' Mostly because Booker didn't know exactly how much he wanted to get there anymore. Robert had offered him a chance to unite with his daughter, he had taken it and promptly forgot.

'Why not?'

'Because he doesn't row.'

'He doesn't ROW?' Rosalind asked in surprise, every man of their time had occasionally punted along the rivers.

'No. He DOESN'T row.' Robert said, indicating that no version of Booker had ever rowed or would ever row, also a constant.

'Ah, I see what you mean.'


	2. Chapter 2

'So explain this to me again.' She walked down the brightly lit streets. 'It isn't just the idea that she exists in multiple realities.' It was a statement of fact.

'No, if it were just that she exists in each universe then we would all be able to open tears between worlds.' He paused at the edge of a pier.

'Why open tears when we can just walk through the doors.' Rosalind said wryly.

'We are indeed the exceptions to reality.' He said with a small smile. 'But the whole point with people in their universe.' He pulled out a ball, juggling it with one hand. 'Is that their wave function is complete. Even in the multiverse.' He pulled some more balls from the universe where they were hovering in wait for him. 'Each has a separate state and a separate wave function. But when the same unit exists in two universes, the two states are in a state of quantum entanglement.'

'The finger.' She surmised. 'Yes.' She agreed, watching her brother juggle. 'And the entangled particles are always trying to collapse into a single wave function. Hence the ability to open tears is merely the superposition of the entangled particles trying to create that single wave function.'

'Precisely.' He smiled, the balls disappearing.

'It's going to be heads.' He stated equivocally.

'Pardon?' She asked as they made their way through the crowds. In a few cases, quite literally through them, the joys of being pan-dimensional beings.

'The coin, I'm certain this is a constant point.' She tilted her head a fraction.

'It could be. I'm debating the raffle myself.' He nodded thoughtfully at that.

'It could be that they're both constants.' Robert suggested.

'Let's see, maybe this time I send him a telegram to avoid the number 77, if he still gets the ball then it's a constant. If he avoids it, a variable.' She said.

'A splendid idea.' He said as they positioned themselves just behind the gates, waiting for Booker. He arrived looking a little bemused and wary, there was a slight shake to his hand, a signature of a first time vigor user. 'Heads?' He asked.

'Or tails?' His sister added, Booker made that face that all people who have had just about enough of your nonsense make. A face the Lutece's knew well.

'Come on, just let me through.' Robert knew from experience that if he didn't flip him the coin now there would be some unpleasant jostling.

'Heads?' Robert said encouragingly.

'Or tails?' There was the slightest hint of threat to Rosalind's voice, she was definitely the enforcer of the pair, much more strength to her. Robert had always considered that their primary difference, her being a woman, had given her an aura that she was not to be trifled with. He supposed that came in handy when working in a traditionally male field.

'Huh?' Booker looked at the coin, as if making sure it was real. 'Uh, heads.' He called the second before it landed on the platter with a tinkle. Of course, what he called never mattered, He'd called tails as often as heads but it always landed head up.

'Told you.' Robert said to her and she made a small noise of displeasure, somehow he always felt the urge to satisfy her first and foremost. 'I never find that as satisfying as I'd imagined.' He said, mostly as a way to placate her.

She brushed her fingers under his jaw, lifting his head back slightly. 'Chin up.' She said, indicating no hard feelings. 'There's always next time.'

He turned his head slightly to look at Booker as they stepped to one side. 'I suppose there is.' He agreed, hoping that this Booker would survive and there would not be a next time. He waited until Booker was gone and they had made their disappearing act before speaking again. 'I suppose you should go back and send that telegram.'


End file.
